Palm and mimosa trees grew to an enormous height, yams were found in abundance, and wild fruits and vegetables in plenty. A river flowed through the oasis, and was the theme of much talk and great bewilderment. “Where does it empty itself?” asked Ibrahim. “It seems to flow to the desert,” answered the Sherif el Habib. Max looked at it intently. “I guess by the time it reaches the desert it gets so thirsty it drinks itself all dry,” he said, speaking so seriously that his friends thought he must have evolved from his inner consciousness some new fact in nature. Girzilla danced in the water. She was like a child paddling in the surf at the seashore. “Would that my father could see this,” she exclaimed, and when asked to repeat, she replied: “Nothing, nothing! I was only thinking.” The mysterious girl could never be induced to say anything about her parentage or kith. She had left her tribe or home, and was loyal to Max and his friends. She never seemed to have a thought away from them. The camels were at first delighted at meeting with the water, but after loading up with the refreshing liquid, they treated the water with haughty disdain, treading lazily along without a care. Following the banks of the stream they found the grass getting greener, but shorter, and the water less deep. After an hour’s march through the marsh grass they reached a little hillock well adapted for encampment, being perfectly dry, and the grass green and soft. But just as the eunuch Effendi had given orders for the tents to be pitched, Max came running back to his friends, declaring that there were plenty of savages to keep them company. Sherif el Habib, accompanied by Ibrahim and guided by Max, went to look at the savages. Across the little stream they saw large herds of cattle, tended by naked natives. The grass was so high that, as the cattle and natives moved about, they appeared as if they were in water. Sherif motioned for the natives to approach, and timidly they did so. He held up some strings of glass beads, and the untutored Africans shouted for joy. Never had the party seen more miserable-looking creatures. Every bone showed through their skin, and they were evidently half starved. They would not kill the cattle, and only ate one when it happened to die of sickness. “What do you eat?” asked Sherif, and was delighted to think that he could make himself understood. “Rats, snakes, lizards, and fish,” was the reply. The fish, they found, were caught by spearing, the natives casting the harpoon at random among the reeds; thus, out of several hundred casts, they might, by good luck, catch one fish. The natives said the chief’s name was Klatch, and Sherif sent for him. A few minutes and a tall, well-formed man appeared, accompanied by two women.